


The Dean: Heaven's Scent

by all-or-nothing-baby (BundleOfSoy)



Series: Waxing Supernaturally Lyrical [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: All The Dean Winchester, Claimed by Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Flirts With Reader, Dean Winchester Poetry, Dean Winchester Smells Like Heaven, Dean Winchester is Fine, Dean Winchester is Sex on Legs, Dean Winchester's Aroma, Dean Winchester's Award Winning Bravado, First Kiss, One Night Stand with The Dean, Other, Pre-Slash, Sam Winchester is Dean Winchester's Home, The Dean - Freeform, Vintage Dean Winchester, and you'll remember his smell forever, reader POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 03:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19076926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BundleOfSoy/pseuds/all-or-nothing-baby
Summary: Dean. You know, THE Dean?Oh, you know him alright--would know him by scent alone. Because one whiff of the elder Winchester brother and you would never, EVER forget...





	The Dean: Heaven's Scent

**Author's Note:**

> Aromas can be so unique; to a time, place-- or indeed a person.
> 
> Laying in bed one night, unable to sleep (sound familiar?), I found myself imagining the cacophony of scents Dean's clothes, hair and skin would retain... and this rhymey~whymey thing was the result.
> 
> (Just very occasionally, I almost like insomnia).

 

* 

 

 Collar turned skyward, a fresh stick of gum,

 

the keys in his pocket clink next to his gun.

  
*

Confidence brimming and flashing _that_ grin.

 

And his smooth whiskey lips? They'll drive you to sin.

  
*

The hint of gunpowder; of slick gasoline;

 

a cinnamon spike, so damn hot it's obscene.

  
*

Bacon and beer and a cheap motel soap;

 

his own musk; dried on blood; and a fist full of hope

  
*

The scent of old leather on roast almond hair,

 

you inhale the good times on his stance, in his stare...

  
*

But also there's sadness-- so much hidden pain,

 

that his confidence wavers from shouldering blame.

  
*

This aroma hides guilt, shadows fear in his tone.

 

He who lives in his car yet his brother's his home...

  
*

False bravado smells good though - like warm apple pie

 

\- so you gobble it up and you swallow the lie.

  
*

'Cause salt, sulphur, sweat: it's so pheromone heavy,

 

and the bold, heady mix is breaking the levee.

  
*

His breath's in your mouth now-- a cherry-mint fizz...

 

You breathe in his scent: you are done; you are his.

 

* 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my stars, if only we could bottle his scent, right?! I'd be permanently high.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you enjoyed, pleeeeeaaaasssse leave kudos, as it really is encouraging for writers to know their work is being appreciated. If you want to shout or scream at me about it--or indeed add your own Dean-scented headcanon!--feel free to leave a me a comment.
> 
> Lucy : )


End file.
